Mission Impossible

Chapter 45~ And I Don't Even Know My Last Name

CLARA'S POV

"Why so nervous?" Zayn's smooth voice said next to me.

"What?" I asked, turning to face him in the car seat next to me.

"You're biting your nails. You only do that when your nervous", he observed. I moved my fingers away from my mouth, not even realizing they had been there.

"I'm not. They were just getting to long, it was making it harder to shoot my gun", I lied. I knew if I made eye contact with him my lie would be more believable. I knew that if I avoided his eyes, it would be a dead indicator that I was lying. But I still couldn't look at him. All I could do was sit there and think about Harry. Not in that way of course, I was just concerned. As a partner.

"You used to be a better liar," Zayn remarked darkly, a sly grin on his face. He had the upper hand. I was running scared like a little girl, and he knew it. I turned to him, and looked him in the eye so he knew what I was saying was the truth.

"That may be true, but now I'm a better shot," I replied, making sure he saw my eyes linger on his chest, right where my bullet had grazed his heart two years ago. I was playing a dangerous game, but if this is what it took to keep the ones I cared about safe, it was worth it.

HARRY'S POV

"Harry, how are you?" My mum asked me, enveloping me in a warm hug before pulling back and cradling my face.

"I'm good, mum," I told her. "How are you?"

"Fine, just been worried about you," she answered. There was a pause.

"I have some tea and sandwiches in the den if you're hungry?" She suggested, pointing her thumbs behind her. I gave her a small smile.

"Famished," I replied, following her into the den and taking a seat. She handed me a cup of tea as I selected my sandwich, her eyes watching me the whole way.

  "I'm glad you came back home. Work probably isn't the best place for you right now...," she trailed off as she finished pouring her own cup of tea. Ah yes. Work. Where I spent every day with Clara. Looking at each other from across our cubicles, flirting at the water cooler during breaks.

  "I need to be here," was all I said. That made my mother smile, thinking I was in need of her support and love. And I would if Clara was gone. But she wasn't. And that's why I needed to be here. This was the last place I had seen her. My eyes trailed to the ceiling above me, right about where my room was. That was the last place I had seen her.

  "Harry," my mother said as she touched my hand, pulling me out of my trance. "It's not your fault," she assured me.

  I knew that. I knew there was nothing that could have been done. Zayn would have found Clara no matter where we were. He would never stop looking for her. But neither would I.

  I knew it wasn't my fault. But wasn't it? If I hadn't have pissed her off, maybe she wouldn't have gone with Zayn as easily? She did go easily right? Horrible thoughts of Zayn hurting Clara to get her to come with him flooded my mind. The image of him stabbing her stomach in the van flashed before my eye. What would he have done if she was resisting...?

  I pulled away from my mother quickly, standing up and turning away, worry filling my mind. My sadness turned to angry almost instantly; my fists clenching at my side. I needed to leave. My mum couldn't see me like this.

  "I have to go," I tried to say as calmly as possible. "Don't wait up," I told my mother, even though it wouldn't change anything she did.

  I had made it almost 5 minutes before running out to find Clara. And for that, I was proud. 

CLARA'S POV

"We're here", Zayn snapped. He opened his door and so I reached for my door only to find out it was still locked. Zayn came around and opened my door, taking my hand and 'helping' me out.

"You know if I was trying to escape it wouldn't be during the few seconds it takes you to get to my side of the car," I remarked, noting his overly cautious behavior.

"I've learned not to underestimate you," Zayn replied, closing the door behind me. He took my hand in his and walked us towards the warehouse we were dropped off at.

"You sure know how to spoil a girl," I joked as we got closer to the shanty looking building.

"If you're good today I'll spoil you tonight," he responded, a flirty undertone in his voice.

"Can't wait," I played back. Zayn smirked as he opened the door for me. When I walked in I saw guys with guns staring at me. I instinctively reached at the waistband of my jeans, where my gun always is. Of course, it wasn't there.

"Relax, they're with us," Zayn said, noticing my reaction.

"Would it kill you to give me a gun?" I asked, regretting it almost immediately.

"I don't know, it did once before," he said. We stared at each other for a few seconds until a small smile spread across his lips. I found one creeping up on my face as well until we both were chuckling.

  One second I didn't trust him, and needed to escape. The next, we were laughing together. And just after that, sleeping together. Our relationship was one of the most confusing I had ever known, but that was pretty much a given after I shot him.

  "Good, you're here," a voice spoke, bringing me out of my trance. "And my my, words do not do you justice," the man with blonde hair and a square face said, walking towards us.

  "Watch it, that's my fiancé you're talking about," Zayn said, making me heart skip a beat. Even now, with my switches flipped off, he could still make me feel. The man raised his hands up, surrendering.

  "Touchy," he said, lowering his arm to extend to me. "Andrew Reid, a pleasure", he said. I took his hand, shaking it.

  "Walker." The man raises his finger and wagged it back and forth, making a 'tisk'ing noise with his mouth.

   "A little birdy told me Clara Walker was dead. I think it's time you got a new name."